


We Are Yours

by dirtiebertie17



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Feels, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 06:39:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6363487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtiebertie17/pseuds/dirtiebertie17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michonne and Rick have a heart-to-heart in the wee small hours of the morning. She finally confides in Rick about her son, Andre.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Are Yours

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story. Comments, criticisms, and critiques all welcome. Hope you enjoy.

The rhythmic patter of rain had always lulled Rick to sleep when he was younger; nature's precursor to the white noise machine he often relied upon to fall asleep as he grew in both age and responsibilities. Even now, rain was one of the few things that seemed to bring him a much needed, albeit brief, respite from the madness of the world. Its occasional aggressive temperament was often eclipsed by its calming force, not unlike a certain woman in his life.

After what had been a particularly raucous few minutes of thunder, the rain settled back into its light, steady beat, continuing its metronomic course for hours. Rick opened his eyes, surprised by both the absence of sunlight and Michonne in the room. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, barely making out the time, and wondered where she could be so early in the morning. Harboring a guess that perhaps her stomach was growling as much as his was, he fumbled for his boxers, quickly put them on, and made his way down to the kitchen.

While the lack of lights clued him in on the fact that she probably wasn't there, his suspicions were confirmed after he failed to notice any hint of crumbs. Living together domestically for the last few months afforded him access to privileged information, and her propensity for late night cookie runs hadn't gone unnoticed. He quickly glanced into her room and scanned the bed, although it hadn't been put to use for the last few nights. Realizing that she wasn't there, a slight sense of panic started to creep up on him, but he also knew that if anyone could handle herself, it was Michonne. He reasoned that she was probably with Judith, and went to check.

"Hey, here you are," he whispered in Michonne's ear, kneeling as he gently nudged her sleeping body awake. She had taken one of Judith's baby blankets and sprawled it on the floor next to the crib, using it as both a makeshift mattress and pillow.

"Mmmm. What? Oh, hey", Michonne smiled, sitting up while failing to stifle a yawn. Rick could see that she was shivering slightly, so he took the blanket and draped it over her shoulders.

"Everything ok? Is Judith ok?" he asked as he peered through the bars of her crib. Judith was on her back, sound asleep, breathing in tandem to the faint rhythm of the rain still falling outside.

"Yeah", Michonne sighed in a hushed voice. "Yeah, she is now. There was a pretty loud thunderstorm, and she was scared. We chatted for a bit and I sang her a few songs, and she calmed right down."

"Thank you," offered Rick, as he lightly caressed the side of Michonne's face and kissed her on her forehead. "Were you sleeping here all night?"

"I don't know. What time is it?" she asked.

"Around 4:30." He stood up, took her hand, and gently pulled her up to join him. "Come on back to bed, " he whispered playfully, pulling her in close by the waist. "We still have a few hours before we have to report for duty."

Michonne reached up and began twirling Rick's loose locks of curls that fell haphazardly down the back of his neck; a habit she acquired over the past few days and one she found increasingly difficult to curtail. "You're just not going to let me get my beauty rest, are you?" she joked, unable to take her eyes off of him; the blue of his eyes piercing through the dimness of the room.

"Nope, "he grinned devilishly. "And you don't need it. Trust me." He pulled her closer into his body, intoxicated by the feel of her skin against his, mesmerized by her gorgeous lips that appeared to be offering themselves up for the taking.

Michonne closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of his breath as his lips sought out their target. She parted hers only slightly, an invitation extended, but not without a challenge. Rick knew she was toying with him, wanting him to work hard for his rewards, so he pulled back creating the narrowest of spaces between them. She let out the faintest of moans in anticipation of their lips meeting, but when that didn't happen, she began to protest. That's when he made his move, honing in on her lower lip first, savoring every taste. After feeling satisfied that he had successfully explored every inch of her mouth, he slowly starting working his way down to her neck.

The sound of Judith shifting and murmuring caused them both to break from their reverie, give each other the same guilty look and giggle before walking towards her bed in unison. Michonne picked up the blanket that had fallen from her shoulders and softly placed it over the still sleeping little girl. She then kissed her fingers to her lips and lightly lowered them down to Judith's head. Rick followed in kind, smiling at the fact that the most important people in his life were all under this one roof, safe and sound in this moment.

"Sleep tight, baby girl," Michonne whispered, as they held each other's hand and made their way out the door.

Rick stopped her in the hallway, just outside their bedroom door, a contented expression on his handsome face. "Thanks again for checking in on her. You didn't have to. You could've woken me up and I would have done it."

She smiled at him with a questioning look, as if to let him know how ridiculous he was being.

"Rick, it's ok. Really. You looked so peaceful and relaxed, and I didn't want to disturb you. I love taking care of Judes, you know I do."

"Yeah," he murmured in that sexy Southern drawl of his. "You definitely have a way with her."

"Well, she makes it easy. She giggles at my jokes, she claps along with my singing, and she loves my stories, and let me tell you I can conjure up a mean bedtime story. There was this one I used to tell…"

Michonne's words stopped short and she lowered her head, pulled down by the gravity of what she caught herself about to say. The last remnants of the walls she had constructed and painstakingly maintained around her heart were about to come crumbling down, and she was unprepared for her own outburst. She had planned to tell him soon, not quite sure how to bring it up, but she surprised herself with how quickly she had just let down her defenses. Being together with Judith in the middle of the night had brought back the memories of all the small yet important moments she used to share with her baby boy, and she couldn't help herself. Overwhelmed by the vast array of conflicting emotions flooding her body, she quickly turned from Rick, opened the bedroom door, and attempted to fight back the tears that she was powerless to stop.

Her words, along with the undeniable quiver in her voice, hit Rick like a sledgehammer. If she was saying what he thought she was saying, he was simultaneously startled by her spontaneous admission and yet, not surprised at all, given her natural maternal abilities. He felt his muscles tense and reach out for her in what seemed like a reflex reaction, his instinctual need to protect her kicking into high gear. Knowing that there wasn't a damn thing he could do to assuage her pain, he tried anyway, wrapping his arms around her upper body from behind, allowing her to fall into his embrace.

"Chonne." He paused, waiting for a sign that it was okay to continue. He felt her body acquiesce, her shoulders relaxing into his chest, her breath slowing down ever so slightly.

"You can tell me anything," he offered gently, letting her silence fill the room for as long as she needed it to.

After a few attempts to hold back her tears, and finally succeeding, she took a deep breath and exhaled, ridding her body of any remaining uncertainty. She turned to face him, but couldn't quite handle the intense sadness in his eyes, choosing to nestle her forehead in his chest instead.

"I know," she acknowledged, an admission more to herself than to him. "That's why I just did. I can't keep anything from you. I don't want to, anymore."

He brought up his hand to meet her tear-streamed face, cradling her chin in his strong yet comforting fingers, lifting it up so that he could convey to her all of the love and concern he felt for her. Without having to hear another word from him, she knew that there was no safer place on Earth for her or her memories of her child than where she was in this moment.

"I had a son," she confided, pausing for a moment to allow the weight of his name to form on her tongue. "Andre."

Saying his name again felt good. She hadn't done so since her heart- to-heart with Carl, and she was surprised by how comforting it was. With another deep breath, she continued.

"He was three years old when I lost him," she stated calmly, maintaining eye contact with Rick. "Mike and I…my boyfriend...we were at a refugee camp. I left them to go on a run. I thought I was doing the right thing…"

Rick swallowed intently, taking in her words with a heightened sense of scrutiny, not wanting to miss a single detail. He offered no verbal feedback, sensing that she needed to speak without interruption, at her own pace, but his eyes communicated everything she needed from him.

"We loved him with all our hearts, but we failed him. Each in our own way. We're both to blame..."

Suddenly, her voice cracked, and her attempts to get more words out failed. Trying to quell the pain rising in her chest, she gasped, failing to catch her breath.

Rick held his hand to her heart. "Breathe, baby."

She felt herself simultaneously melting into him, her fears dissipating with each passing second, and growing stronger, his support providing her with the courage she needed to resume.

"I used to replay that day over and over in my head until I couldn't stand it anymore. All the things I did wrong; all the things I could have done differently. No matter how much I beat myself up, it wasn't enough."

"Then don't tell me any more about that day. Tell me about HIM."

There was a pause. Michonne let out a heavy sigh before collapsing into his arms, allowing him to provide her with the comfort she never afforded for herself. Somehow, Rick had understood her intense feelings of guilt that she felt for her role in Andre's death. He hadn't tried to convince her that she was wrong, or free her from blame. He knew her better than that. What he was giving her was permission to forgive herself; to release the guilt and focus on Andre's life, not his death.

"Come on," he said as he led her to their bed, "lie down next to me."

Rick lifted up his side of the blanket as Michonne crawled in. He wanted to envelope her with as much warmth and love as he possibly could, so he got in, shimmied as close as he could next to her, and wrapped his arm around her. She found her favorite spot, nestled against his chest, and closed her eyes as she allowed all the happy memories of her baby to come flooding back.

"He was the most amazing little boy. His face. God, his little face just brightened up my day. He had the best smile I've ever seen. And his laugh. Even when I was exhausted or frustrated with him, he knew that all he had to do was flash those pearly whites and laugh, and I was a goner."

"Well, he was a smart little guy,' Rick quipped, sensing that a little levity would help her open up even more. "That's pretty much how I get away with stuff with you."

She smiled and gave him a tiny pinch on his chest. He brought his hand up to meet hers and gently massaged it, kissing her head. "Tell me more."

"He WAS smart. He was always asking questions about everything he saw and he picked up on everything. And books. There were times when I would skip whole paragraphs or pages, because I was tired or trying to save time, but I couldn't fool him. He would know if I skipped even one word. I couldn't put anything past him."

Rick kissed her head again and said "If he was anything like you, then he was an incredible little boy."

Michonne closed her eyes again. She pressed against Rick's body as closely as she could, trying to remove all physical space between them. She gulped, finally allowing her tears to flow freely; a mixture of profoundly sad and happy tears cascading onto Rick's chest.

"He was. He was my heart, my light. He was my love."

"I wish I could have known him."

"Yeah. You would have loved him and he would have loved you." She glided her finger along Rick's chest while she spoke, tracing a heart over his. "I miss my little peanut so much."

"I'm sorry, Chonne. I'm so sorry." He inhaled deeply, overcome with sympathy for this woman who allowed him to feel again. She brought him back from depths of despair he didn't know could exist, and all he wanted was to do the same for her. Now. In this moment.

"Thank you for telling me. I know it was hard for you."

"No. It was hard keeping it from you. Telling you about Andre was easier than I ever thought it would be."

"I wish I could make everything better. Different. I don't know what to say except that I'm sorry."

"You don't need to say it. I know."

"I know you were an amazing mother. ARE an amazing mother. THANK YOU," he avowed emphatically, wanting to emphasize how grateful he truly was to have her nurturing presence in his and his children's lives. "For everything. I mean it. EVERYTHING. Carl, Judith...me."

Michonne reached up touch his face, slightly taken aback by the subtle tremble in his voice. She was so grateful to hear those words, knowing he meant every one of them.

"You know I love them as if they were my own, right?" she asked, desperately wanting him to know just how much she meant her words.

"They ARE yours. WE are yours." He paused before whispering, "I love you."

She lifted her head off his chest and fixed her eyes on his, awash in a love that she never thought she would know again. She marveled at how this man, her best friend, her partner, her lover, could be so brutal when he needed to be yet retain the goodness and decency she saw in him from the very beginning, despite his initial attempts to hide it. Their eyes remained transfixed on each other, a slight smile slowly sneaking up on Michonne's lips as she brushed back a stray curl from Rick's forehead. He smiled back, never taking his gaze off her, waiting patiently for the response he had been longing to hear.

"I love you, too."

She brought her face to his, stroked the soft hairs of his beard and met his lips in the most delicate kiss either of them had ever experienced. They parted after only a moment, but their faces lingered as closely as they could without physically touching. Soon, they would have to start another day, fighting back against whatever adversity would come their way, but for now, they were content to just be. As the rain continued its rhythm, their hearts beating along in unison, they wrapped themselves around each other, cocooned in a level of intimacy neither thought possible.


End file.
